


Integrity of the Woods

by ShadowTrooper1414



Series: Just to Make Amends [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bingiplier is a Little Shit, Blood and Gore, Except Bing is having fun with it, Gen, I meant to write more angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury, Major Character Death is for Bim, Plus Bing was literally going to be tortured almost to death and I didn't want that on my conscience, Technically Blind Host, but I didn't because I was lazy, cause he big boi ded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22783321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowTrooper1414/pseuds/ShadowTrooper1414
Summary: The mission Bingiplier, The Host, and Bim Trimmer are sent on goes haywire. They manage to find something that will lead them to Mark and the others, though. Just pray it works out.
Relationships: Bingiplier & Chase Brody, Bingiplier & The Host
Series: Just to Make Amends [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/929301
Kudos: 17





	Integrity of the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, I'm not dead! I just procrastinated on this way too long. This series isn't dead either, don't worry, I'm just terrible at this kind of thing. I really did mean for this to be a lot angstier than it turned out, but I think I like it better this way? Which is nice. Anyway, I do describe the bloody pile that is Bim in quite a bit of detail, so please be cautious!

Bing's breath came out in small huffs. He heard shouts and a dog's barks from behind him. The weight of Host on his back became more known to him with every step. He listened as his feet thundered on the forest floor. He didn't know if he would make it.

Bing shouldered his way through some low branches. He felt his foot catch on a root, making him stumble. He took a few steps to regain his balance before continuing.

"Bingiplier stumbles on a tree's root," Host narrated. "The Host would like to know if he is alright."

"I'm fine, Host," Bing said, panting. "Save your strength. You're going to need it for later narrations."

Host nodded, gently resting his chin on Bing's shoulder. Bing blinked rain from his eyes. He hoped the water wouldn't affect his circuits. 

Bing glanced over his shoulder - the one Host wasn't resting his chin on. He could make out the glow of flashlights through the trees. His eyes widened. He looked forward again, picking up speed. He couldn't let them get him.

Indistinct shouts in a different language sounded. Bing identified it as Icelandic. They were saying something about the target getting away. They were talking about Bing.

There was a pounding in his chest and an aching in his head. The rain was cold and bitter. Los Angeles usually didn't rain - and neither did the location of their hideout.

It took a while before Bing finally managed to lose the people. He saw a light through the trees. A grin broke out on his face. He could get Host somewhere safe!

"The Host and Bing reach a clearing the woods," Host said as Bing crossed from the trees into a small clearing. "A river can be heard rushing past from behind another line of trees. In the center of the clearing is a house with a long road leading to it. The house is white and about two stories tall. Lights are shining from several of the windows."

"Yup," Bing said, only half-listening. He walked up to the house and knocked on the door. A man of about forty years of age answered the door. He looked Bing up and down.

Bing knew how he looked. Sparks flew from his eye, immediately going out, blood and oil were covering him in splashes, he had a bleeding person resting on his back, and broken sunglasses sat askew on his head. He wasn't a pretty picture.

"Can I help you?" The man had a rough yet kind voice.

"My friend here got hurt," Bing said in Icelandic. "Can you help him?"

The man was hesitant before saying, "I'll see what I can do." Bing smiled in relief. He turned around and let the man take Host from his back. Bing turned back to face him.

"Thank you," Bing said with a smile. "Thank you so much. He has a contact number for a group of our friends. Have him call them when he wakes up. He'll know what to do."

Without another word, Bing ran from the house and into the woods, away from the clearing. He had to keep the people away from Host. That was more important than their mission.

He even forgot to spare a thought to how the man could see them.

* * *

Bing wasn't surprised that he easily fell into the enemy's hands after that.

Currently, he was shackled to a wall of his cell. Whatever was left of Bim was splattered on the wall opposite to him. It wasn't very pretty. The whole thing was blood and guts with skin stuck to it. An eyeball sat on the floor. It made Bing want to vomit.

Bing's attention was pulled from the gory scene by footsteps. He looked over at the cell door. It opened to reveal a woman and a man, both dressed in a dark blue uniform. The woman had blonde hair pulled into a bun with blue eyes while the man had dark brown hair with eyes the same shade.

"Why did you come here?" The woman came closer, pulling a gloved hand along his jaw. Bing clenched his teeth and glared at her. She drew her hand back, then brought it down hard. An oddly satisfying clanging noise filled the room. "Answer when you're spoken to."

Bing spat onto the ground, then growled out, "Who knows anything, anymore." He received another slap to the face and was mildly surprised at the woman's pain threshold. " _ Okay, jeez _ . We came to check a lead." He glanced at the bloody mess in the corner. He definitely did not want to come back.

The man still at the door scoffed. "You won't find anything here. Things have been changing in command, thanks to the mess you and your friends have caused. This means that your... originators have been relocated as well." Bing stored that information away as the woman shot the man a glare. The man shrugged. "We're planning on killing him as soon as we manage to get an answer. Besides, villain monologuing is fun sometimes."

"Oh my god, I hate you so much," the woman hissed, gripping Bing's hair harshly. She looked at Bing again. "You  _ will _ tell us where your hideout is, or your end won't be as swift as your partner's."

Bing met her glare with one of his own. He'd take that bet.

* * *

Bing hissed as he managed to slip his hands from his shackles. His wiring was exposed, and his eye was  _ definitely _ missing. If his pain sensors hadn't died days ago, he would be screaming in agony. He still faked it for his tormentors sometimes, though that was a game in and of itself. It was honestly starting to be fun. Seldom he moaned at the woman with a smirk set broadly across his face, but those times, her face had been  _ priceless _ .

Bing was getting distracted from his goal here. He had finally worked himself free from his chains. It had been less than a week of being here, and he was already ahead of his enemies. He had to be grateful for his synthetic skin being able to take a beating, at the rate he was being taken apart and strung back together.

Taking a deep breath, Bing pushed himself to his feet. He was a little wobbly but managed to move to the vent in the corner of his cell. Keeping an ear out, he unscrewed it and lifted the grate off. He made a precursory glance at the door before getting down and crawling in. It was a tight fit, but Bing could deal with it.

Bing pulled up the map of the building's inner-workings, glad his important hardware was well protected. He started moving through the ducts, getting to the main control center. It took what felt like an hour - and several close calls - before he found it.

After waiting to ensure no one would be in the room, Bing silently opened the grate and lowered himself in. He immediately went for the main console and plugged into it. He easily disabled firewalls - amateur, they were lucky none of the Googles had been sent - before downloading and archiving any and all information about their creators. They were in Germany now. Good to know.

With that out of the way, Bing contacted Chase through their secure channel.

"Status Update," Chase said, obviously beating worry out of his voice.

"56% damaged, several loose wires and missing plates, sensors are offline," Bing said. "Memory core and sensitive hardware intact. I have new information on the situation."

"And The Host?" Chase pressed.

"Safe, as far as I'm aware," Bing said. "I'll be making my escape now." He softened his voice. "I'll see you soon."

"Right," Chase said, sounding choked. He cleared his throat. "Signing out, then."

Bing made an affirmative, then closed the channel and unplugged from the console. He had to get back to Host.

* * *

The Host was sitting in the guest room bed of the house, mumbling through narrations. Past his throbbing headache, he managed to extend his reach to where Bing was. It had been several days, but Bing was making it. He was alright, and that was relieving.

A knock at the door brought Host back enough to say something close to permission before going back to mumbling. In walked a little girl, around five years old. She was named Einar, which was a masculine name but one she apparently wore with pride. She walked up to him after flicking the light on and tilted her head.

"You still quiet talkin' to self," she said, speaking Icelandic - unsurprising. They were in Iceland. "You do anyt'in' but tha'?"

Host shook his head. He was cursed, but he didn't expect her to understand what that meant. Einar continued chattering as if he hadn't even responded. If he had eyes, he would've rolled them as he focused back in on Bing.

The android had made it out of the facility undetected and was steadily making his way to the house. He was more damaged than before and soaking wet. The Host couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. Bing was a reckless idiot sometimes.

Host just had to hold out until Bing retrieved him.

After several moments of silence, he noticed Einar had stopped talking. He tilted his head questioningly.

"Can you tell story?" Einar asked, sounding slightly annoyed as if she had asked before.

Host sighed before nodding. Might as well. He could tell it was going to be a long night.

Bing arrived at the house several hours after escaping the facility. Host sighed as a light tap sounded on the window. Bing had thrown a pebble at it. After a few seconds, Host stuck his head out. They shared a nod.

It was time to go home. Well, as close to home as they could get.

When Einar and her family woke up the next morning with barely any memory of the two, The Host couldn't help the slight guilt he felt. It would be fine though. They knew where Mark was. They could be whole again.

Soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Next time, another look into the past. This time, Thomas Sanders, and what _exactly_ happened to his Sides.


End file.
